


Dulce Bellum Inexpertis

by PassionateFangirl



Category: Halo (Video Games) & Related Fandoms
Genre: Grief/Mourning, Halo 5 AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:01:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 13,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25078816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PassionateFangirl/pseuds/PassionateFangirl
Summary: After losing her first and only team, Spartan-IV Petra finds loss in her world. But then she's pulled along on a mission to help the legend John-117 to find an old partner. And who would she be to let him be alone too? On the way, she finds something deep in herself while alongside her superior officer.
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm probably going to use a lot of military terms incorrectly. I apologize in advance.

In the depths of a star system, the ship UNSC _Honor Bound_ floated weightlessly among the stars.

Within it's core structure, designation Spartan Petty Officer First Class Petra Jordan stood, staring at the galaxy outside, her helmet tucked under an arm. Her glassy eyes seemed to be in another plane of existence.

"Petty Officer Jordan?"

She turned, face emotionless, to see the speaker. It was the captain of the ship, Leonard Moare, and he was presenting her with a small patch.

"For your actions on Deacon, you are hereby promoted to Chief Petty Officer."

She slowly reached a hand out and took the insignia from the captain, studying it with what seemed like boredom. "Thank you, Captain. But why should I get promoted when _I_ failed to save my comrades?"

"You also saved millions of lives. Their deaths were not in vain. Fireteam Hound would be proud of it's leader." Moare said, a smile tugging at his lips. "I trust you are fine where you are?"

"Yes, Captain. I can still see their pods from here."

"I'll leave you be."

He left quietly, with now Chief Petty Officer Petra Jordan clutching the new badge. She looked back at the stars, barely making out the pods that carried her team's bodies, now floating among planets and nebulas. She remembered the scene vividly. Her team had been sent out to stop a terrorist bomb on the moon Deacon from going off, and each member gave themselves to the fire willingly to let their leader run with the bomb safely in her arms, away from the city.

Petra had suffered a dislocated thumb and nasty burns. Her teammates had suffered their lives. She ran a finger across her helmet. Finally, when her augmented eyes couldn't see the coffins in space anymore, she left for her cryo-pod to wait out the slipspace jump.

She woke to the UNSC _Infinity_ gleaming from the windows. Inside, technicians stripped her of her armor. She retreated to her room.

She sat on her bed, wearing only a bra and sweatpants. She ran a hand across a burn that coated her torso, creasing her skin and making her look like some ghoul. They were from the bomb's eventual explosion as she was miles from the city, and threw it yards above her, diving into a poorly made ditch. It had been 3 days since the incident, but it still felt like it just happened. Her teeny tiny augmentation scars were almost unseeable compared to these.

She took a shower, stared at herself in the mirror, and then went to sleep in her own bed for the first time since the incident.

In the morning, she opened her eyes, swung out of bed, and laid down on the floor, starting her morning schedule. She did too many crunches to count, a push up, and left for the mess hall.

The rest of the crew, including a few Spartan-IVs, were chatting and eating, which quickly died down when she entered the room. She chose her MRE, sat down, and chewed politely on the marble cake. She didn't feel like scolding herself for eating dessert first thing that day. Soon, the room went back to it's usual chatter, but with an aura of unease.

A Spartan-IV she had never seen before sat down next to her. "Congratulations on the promotion." He said softly. "I'm Kurtis Fletcher. I'm from Fireteam Concord, and I've always admired your team. I'm so sorry."

"Thank you for your concern."

"I was on the team heading to Deacon's sister moon, Bishop." The moons orbited a gas giant, so naturally they could only colonize it's sattelites. "The terrorists said there was a bomb there too, but it was just a bluff to separate our forces."

Petra looked at him, turning her head very slowly, and crushing the marble cake in her hands. Clear signal for " _SHUT THE HELL UP_ ". Kurtis realized what he was saying and left.

The now irritated spartan finished her meal. She went to spar (now alone), and made sure to avoid any of the Concord team members, wondering if they were all like Kurtis. Slipspace was announced to be commencing the next day across the speakers. Petra simply went to her room, forgetting her schedule. She sat down on her bed, folded her shaking hands, and bent her head down.

Most of the crew was religious. It was hard not to gravitate towards faith in situations like these. Petra was one of them, and a devout at that. She admired the Sangheili for their profound faith, although it was not her own. She herself was Eastern Orthodox Christian. At times she would ask questions and wait for answers.

This time she got answers she didn't want.

"Why does everything have to be so fucked up?" She said softly. "Why did my team have to die? It wasn't their time. We had things to do, darn it!" She heard her answer, she knew exactly why her team had to die. If it wasn't for them, millions would have been blown to dust and the people responsible would never have been caught. She just didn't want to hear it.

Petra got up, navigating towards the bathroom. She held onto the sides of the sink, feeling sick. Her entire life, she was always with somebody. She had trained with those people for years. Milly, her best friend from middle school. Troy, the one she's always confide in. Dalton, the one she'd want to spend a life with. They had saved each other so many times.

Now they were gone. She never felt so...alone.

The metal dented beneath her Spartan hands.


	2. An AI For Your Troubles

Kurtis, of all people, was heading to Petra's room to apologize for earlier. He had found her asleep next to her dented sink, and she had clearly gotten sick in it. She was quickly rushed to receive psychiatrical help.

"How do you feel?" The psychiatrist asked her.

Petra said nothing. She felt too nauseous to be doing anything. It made her blood boil, knowing that. She was a fucking Spartan, she was supposed to drop into battle at a moment's notice! She didn't look the woman in the eye.

"...You don't want to be useless, right?"

She looked up, her head snapping to attention with inhuman speed. "How do you know?"

The psychiatrist smiled. "I've worked with Spartans before. I know how their minds work, especially in these situations. But listen, if we can speak with each other, we can get through this faster. Now," She shifted slightly on her seat. "How do you feel?"

"...Scared. I don't want to be alone."

"Ok." The psychiatrist typed something on her laptop. "Indulge me. I need to be in your shoes."

For the next hour Petra let out everything. She told her how she felt about her team, and the way they had died.

 _Milly smiled brightly, tugging at the plasma grenade stuck to her helmet. "Go! You look better in the armor anyway." The grenade blast went through her skull, tearing away her helmet and exposing her tear stuck face, breaking down the last of her shields. She fell, and was engulfed by the light of bullets exiting their guns._ Petra sobbed.

"It's alright, shh. It's ok." The psychiatrist held Petra in a hug.

She started to cry. "I don't want them to go. I don't want them to leave! I feel so...so...tired." She wiped a tear away. "Dammit!"

"It is hard to let go, to understand. It will take time. And we can work on this, and get you back in the field. Right now, you're too unstable."

"Like hell!" Petra stood up. "Please give me a mission, something, anything! I have to focus. I need to keep fighting. What use am I right now? What did they die for?!"

"Wait. I have an idea." The psychiatrist quietly left the room, leaving Petra to her grief-stricken thoughts. Dalton...she had held his hand until it was nothing but dust. Whatever was in that pod now, it looked nothing like the sweet boy she had fallen in love with.

The psychiatrist returned. "This is very risky. I wasn't sure if this was the time, but I'm always for a leap of faith." She was holding an AI chip in her hand. "Here." She handed it to Petra. "Speak to her."

Petra took the chip and examined it. It was strange, shaped like a rectangle but curved like a circle on one end. In the middle was a circle of red light, flickering with life. The psychiatrist motioned to a holo-pedestal in the corner of the room. Almost every room on a UNSC ship or facility had these, so onboard AI could go where they please. Petra attached the chip to the pedestal.

An AI came to life on it.

She was wearing a traditional Japanese shrine maiden uniform, but in place of the red cloth were hundreds of symbols moving downwards across her body. Her hair was let down and a little long, and she had a little smile.

"State your name." The psychiatrist said.

"I am AI Serial Number MKO 6317-9. Designation Miko." She curtsied politely. "It's very nice to meet you, Chief Petty Officer Petra Beatrice Jordan." She turned to the psychiatrist, smiling. "Hello, mother."

Petra stared at the little being of light. AI were not uncommon, the amount manufactured were countless. But they were still something to look at, to see. She was certainly much different than the shipboard AI back on the _Honor Bound_.

"Hello Miko." The psychiatrist smiled. "Petra, in the past, when Spartans have gone into states of depression or other psychological changes, they were given AI. Or, the lucky ones were." She held out a hand, letting Miko hop onto it, her form glitching slightly as she left her pedestal. "This is Miko. I named her after the shrine maidens in Earth's east. She was specifically tailored to help a Spartan cope through loss or other heavy damage to the mental state. You will be her first."

Miko smiled. "A real Spartan-IV, huh? I've only seen footage. I'm still fairly new, only a year old. I've never known anyone besides my creator." She motioned to the psychiatrist. "I've read up on you, so don't be alarmed if I say something you've never mentioned to me. In that case...you haven't mentioned anything to me at all, have you?"

Petra closed her open mouth. "I...don't know what to say."

"I know you want to return to battle, and I'm sure you will. But right now, you need to rest for a bit. Petra will be right beside you. She can offer answers and do a much better job than me."

"I'm better at mimicking human emotion and understanding it than any other AI created in existence. I'm what you call 'special'." She smirked.

"Who was she made from?" Petra asked, gently reaching a finger out and moving it through the AI. Miko expressed a little annoyance at the gesture and flitted back to her spot of light.

"That's classified, I'm afraid. Now it appears our session is over. You and Miko will be friends for 2 weeks, and then we'll talk again. And she has direct access to me, so I'll come early if needed." The psychiatrist plucked Miko's chip from the pedestal. The soft red light glowing from it disappeared. She handed Miko into Petra's waiting hand. "She's now yours."

She exited the small talk room, and Petra admired the red glow coming from the chip's center.


	3. More Than You Can Chew

**1 Week Later**

Petra had found the AI to be annoying. In the good way.

In the mornings, she chided Petra for eating a dessert MRE first, opting for the maple sausage instead. When Petra refused, Miko locked her suit until she promised she would eat the sausage. The sausage was pretty tasty, so Petra didn't break Miko in half for her stunt.

Miko would often descend into ramblings of data she found. She was an efficient sneaker, and almost got into ONI's database if the AI Delta Venus hadn't stopped her. "That AI and her damn firewalls!" Miko would often say to herself. "Oh, wait, you're Christian, heh. Please excuse my language."

"I'm also a soldier, Miko. I've cursed more times than any atheist on this ship. I just don't curse people. No matter how much they're asking for it." Petra explained. "Please, be as crude as you wish."

"As you say!" Miko then ranted about firewalls with a whole slang of curse words even Petra didn't know for about 30 seconds.

One morning, Petra had a nightmare about her teammates dying, so she left early for the gym, leaving the chip. Miko would just use the facility's access systems to find her. Dressed in nothing but a sports bra and gym shorts, Petra entered the gym, tying tape around her knuckles and heading for a punching bag.

She proceeded to give it a few knocks until it fell to the ground sand spilling out of it. "Well shit." Petra muttered to herself. She forgot her own strength sometimes. She turned to the bag right next to it, throwing a punch.

Her hand hit the palm of another, and her arm twisted.

Petra instantly went into battle mode. She didn't know who this was, or how they got onto this ship, but she wasn't going down without a fight. She did a backflip to twist her arm back into a comfortable position and shoved the enemy. The enemy barely budged, letting her know he or she was formidable. Another hand grabbed her knee and lifted her up. Petra responded by head butting the hand holding her arm, letting her go, and she was free to move (at least upside down).

She stayed that way, grabbing the ankles of her attacker and pulling them forwards. They dropped letting her go, but as she crawled over their body to plant an arm on their neck, they took her thighs and flipped her over, tossing them behind their head at the same time. Instantly, they were on top of Petra, an exposed arm pressed to her neck.

Petra played a dirty trick. She bit the arm, hard enough to draw blood, and rolled to the side. She jumped on top of them, her body over their neck. The person still got up anyway, so Petra crossed her legs over their neck instead, sat up, and delivered a few fine punches. She jumped off backwards, kicking the attacker's neck, and grabbed the bleeding arm preparing to twist it very, very painfully behind him. Dislocation was quite possible.

Then the enemy did something she didn't expect.

Before she could apply any pressure to pull back, they leaned forward and leaned back again with inhuman speed, head butting her and hitting her chin, making her bite her tongue. Blood streaked down her chin. They took her by the forearm and swung her over, Petra landing on the floor, her attacker opposite to her. Petra tried to curl up, intending to kick her legs into their blurry face, but they were on top of her in an instant. They used their legs to hold hers down, and their arms to hold hers down. Petra tried to use her head, bucking her body, but the weight of whoever this was was just too much. She thought of some way to get out. Her head spun.

Finally, she stopped squirming. She had run out of strategies. Whoever this was had bested her. She expected the somebody either cracking her neck or demanding answers to something.

"You win." She sputtered. "Dammit, you win."

"Here." The enemy got off her, holding out a hand. His voice was deep and gruff, clearly older than her. Petra blinked, reaching for it.

(She wanted to say this was the first time she went into battle mode with a fellow soldier. This wasn't. But this was the first time she lost.)

"Thank you." She spit out some more blood, the red stuff dribbling onto her bra. "I'm sorry, I thought you were some enemy." Her thoughts cleared. "How...how did you best me? I...I don't mean to brag, but I'm pretty good."

"Well, I'm a Spartan too."

She laughed in the back of her mind. "But you're much, much older than any of the recruits. How are you a Spartan-IV at this age, unless you're..." She trailed off. Her vision cleared, and a man stood before her, covered in scars. His eyes were a soft blue, clearly having seen things that would destroy another's mind. His build was big, bigger than even her augmented size, and she knew instantly. Rarely seen without a helmet, but once you saw the face, you'd never forget it.

She quickly saluted. "Master Chief, sir. I-please, forgive me. I didn't mean to-"

"At ease. It's alright. It's happened before." His gaze was fixed upon her mouth, still covered in blood. His eyes seemed to soften, as if remembering something from the past. "Let's go get you cleaned up."

She lowered her hand. "...Sir?"

"Come with me."


	4. I'd Be Shocked Too

Petra watched the Master Chief bandage up his arm, the one she'd bitten. She held a warm cloth to her mouth, the white fabric already soaked with blood.

This was new.

She was a Spartan, one of the best. She was just below teams like Osiris or Majestic. Commander Palmer only spoke to her directly once, and it was to congratulate her on beating Majestic's mission time record.

(Once. It never happened again.)

Despite her big status, Petra was very young. Only 33, she was augmented at 24. She displayed skills like any other Spartan would. She wasn't particularly special, but still enough to be near leagues like Locke or Tanaka. Her real strength was in leading a team. She was a tactical thinker. Unlike 99% of the existing Spartans, she thought before she shot. Often, her team avoided devastating battles with a simple peace-talk. They cleared out areas with stealth and quick fights. They could still kick some large-scale galactic ass, though.

Yet she was still just a faithful Spartan, one of many volunteers. Just a soldier, just a woman.

And here she was next to the motherloving MASTER CHIEF PETTY OFFICER OF THE NAVY, watching him bandage a wound she had made.

He was very quiet. He clearly knew how to take care of a team just like she did. He had fixed her up with a cloth and some emergency stitches like she'd do to Dalton when he'd get a plasma grenade stuck to his foot. She sensed a familial aura from him, just like all Spartans did to each other. But for him, they were the only family he ever had.

"Pemishun 'o shpeak fweely shir?" She asked him.

He nodded, not looking at her. "Granted."

She was sitting on the punching bag she had destroyed. Feeling like she could talk a little bit without breaking the stitches on her tongue, she tried to have a conversation. It wasn't every day you ran into the Master Chief.

"Sho...wha haf you bin up to? Shir?"

Gee, that was a brilliant start to a conversation.

He answered with a small shrug.

"I don' know your weal nam. Coul' you 'ell me? Shir?"

"John. I would prefer to be called just Master Chief, though."

John. Such a quaint name for a ruthless soldier. His entire demeanor was stiff, and he was completely focused on the wound. His fingers were strong and calloused, and his eyes seemed like stone-carved orbs. After finishing up the bandage, he sat back up. Petra stood up with him. He gave her a quizzical look.

She spit the dissolving stitches out, her tongue starting to heal itself up now. "Where are you heading off to, sir?"

"Shooting range." He replied.

"...Is it alright if I accompany you, sir?"

He gave her a small shrug and a nod, and headed off. She followed. In her mind, she silently thanked every saint she could remember for not having the Chief not want her company. The two walked down hallways, and arrived at the largest room in the entire facility-the armory.

"We'll meet up." He left for his own station, and Petra blinked. "Okay! Sir!"

Many spartans looked his way, muttering, whispering to others. It was very rare for him to walk around without his suit on. She noticed a few of the older girls blush and look away. A few guys, too.

Not that she was attracted to him or anything (she really wasn't), but he did have a _glorious_ ass.

Petra hurried to her station, walking behind curtains to quickly shower from her fight and put on the special black undersuit. Some of the newbies had coined it as "Spartan Spandex". Technicians assembled her armor onto her body, the machinery whirring as each piece fit itself onto her like a glove.

It was the new one she had ordered. She never wanted to wear the armor she had worn during...her last mission. This one was white, gold, and black, reminding her of a wasp. She hated wasps with a passion. She loved this suit with it too.

Admiring the new threads, she nodded towards the technicians (who gave her sorrowful looks as she looked their way), and headed for the range. The Chief was already there, decked out in his hella awesome Mjolnir Armor, loading his assault rifle with a magazine. Petra nodded to herself. _Play it cool,_ she thought. _Don't embarrass yourself._

"Heya Chief!" She said loudly, alerting everyone else in the shooting range of her presence. Some whispered and pointed, either in pity or awe. John-er, Master Chief, looked over, a little surprised. His helmet wasn't on, letting her see his eyes. "Hello."

It was at this point Petra realized she never introduced herself. "Chief Petty Officer Petra Jordan. I, never gave you my name."

"Thanks for the update." He motioned towards the racks and racks of guns and ammo. Petra didn't want to make him wait, and walked over. She picked up her best weapon-the Magnum Pistol. Not only was it efficient, it was best when coming across enemies to look as least intimidating as possible (made for better peace treaties). It also had a scope, perfect for fast and efficient stealth missions. "Nice." 

Returning to the main range, she set herself up next to the Chief, who was already firing. 5 perfect shots.

She sat down and breathed. In her hand the gun sat, finger on the trigger. She aimed, and time seemed to slow just for her. The scope flipped up, and the target closed in. She fired.

A huge clang echoed through the range. Petra looked up. Did she do that? Did she miss her shot and it hit somewhere else? She really needed to brush up, if so.

Thankfully, her aim was just fine for the moment, and she looked over to see that Chief had dropped his gun. The assault rifle sat on the ground, and he was staring at it. He didn't look like he was picking it up. He also had his helmet back on.

"...Master Chief?"

He looked up, as if he was returning from another plane of reality. He grabbed the assault rifle and went to put it up. He did not look okay.

"Sir? Are you okay? Sir!"

He ignored her.

"Master Chief John-117!"

That made him stop. He turned stared at her, silent. Then he left. Petra followed him all the way to the door, and stopped.

On a holo-pedestal next to her, Miko popped up in a flash of red light. "PETRA!"

The entire room of Spartans stared at the AI. Some pointed.

Miko ignored the commotion she had caused. "Do you KNOW how long I was looking for you?! First you aren't in your room, you leave no note, and then I have to scour the entire ship! This place is huge! There are so many places for me to pop in! And-"

"Can we take this somewhere else?" Petra practically commanded the AI with her tone. Miko looked around, sighed, and flashed away, her red light leaping from room to room. The Spartan sighed. Today was very, very strange.


	5. Out of Sight...

Once Petra met back up with the exasperated AI, Miko continued her rant. "You, can't just run off like that! What if you were in too deep? What if you had run to..." She didn't finish. "Or what if you had a panic attack or something and I couldn't help? And you fought with the Master Chief? That's what this security camera says."

"Yes, it was just a spar, but-"

"You were fighting as if you were trying to stay alive, Petra! That was not just a sparring!" Miko yelled. Her form glitched slightly, and she took a deep breath. "You're gonna make me run into rampancy before I even live 2 years."

"Don't say that." Petra didn't know what it was, but is didn't sound good. "Miko, I'm sorry. But right now, I think there's somebody else who needs help. More than me. I can't just walk around unless something can be done."

Miko puffed. "Who?"

"John-The Master Chief."

The AI's eyes widened. "I'm well aware he has some instability. But Cortana, his former AI. She helped him with that. His psych eval is fine, better than any of the other spartans. Better than _you,_ which is why you're my priority."

Cortana? Must have been one of the AI her psychiatrist talked about. Petra persisted. "Just check the cameras for the shooting range 20 minutes ago. That's an order, Miko!"

Miko complied. She pulled up the footage, the screen floating in front of her.

There they were, simply shooting. Petra was busy collecting herself to fire for the first time in weeks. Chief was staring at the target and his 5 bullet holes.

His hands were shaking on the gun. For a moment, it seemed as though he was out of touch with reality.

Then he suddenly pulled back, holding the gun, and dropped it just as Petra fired. He contemplated the weapon, then left quickly.

Miko swiped away the footage. Her gaze was completely focused and cold. "It seems I was wrong." She quickly brought up and checked the present cameras, a task she was getting used to. "Found him. In the 3rd window room, Sector 7. Meet me there." Petra's feet pounded the metal flooring, and she headed straight for the Chief.

Whatever he'd been through, he was starting to break the facade. Petra wasn't going to wait for him to shatter. She opened the bay door, and found him sitting on one of the chairs, holding his helmet.

Miko appeared in a pedestal, and motioned for Petra to leave. Petra obliged, and shut the door. She glimpsed the Chief getting up, putting his helmet back on.

"Who are you-" The soundproofing in the room muffled the rest.

Petra waited for 5 minutes.

A message appeared on the pedestal outside.

_It's gonna be a while._

She left for a snack.

Walking down to the mess hall, fresh fruits had been shipped onboard. Newbies and veterans gathered around. That was a rare occurrence, though not as aware as fresh meat. The Spartans mostly got MREs and pure vitamins. She swiped a peach before the whole tray of them were eaten. Taking off her helmet, she tucked it under an arm and bit into the warm, juicy fruit. DAMN, THAT WAS GOOD.

A thought lingered in the back of her mind. Cortana? The AI Miko had mentioned. She hurried to the library. This, Cortana, it interested her. Maybe it had something to do with why Chief was all wrong.

A large, quiet room filled with every scrap of knowledge you'd need. The resident "Dumb AI" Jingle appeared on a pedestal. "Can I help you?"

"I'm looking for information on...Cortana."

"Right this way." She flitted to a nearby computer, a light blinking by it to let Petra know where she was. Petra scurried to it and sat down in the seat, the iron holding her heavy weight. "Searching...1 match found. 4758 sources confirmed." Jingle continued. "Here you go, and have fun learning!"

"Thanks." _Whoever put that stupid catchphrase there should be fired,_ Petra thought. With her "Spartan Senses", she easily looked through the sources. Most were news files on Dr. Halsey. Then the Pillar of Autumn...Reach...blah blah blah...

Aha. There was one article, _AI "Cortana" Data-01019294-H_ , locked from most personnel. But Petra was now a Chief Petty Officer, and had access to this stuff. "Identification Petra Jordan." She spoke into the mic, and the file opened.

_SN: CTN 0452-9_

_Name: Cortana_

_Status: Inactive_

_Creator: Doctor Halsey, Catherine_

_Assignment:_

_Battle Support for Spartan John-117_

_Emotional Support Figure for Spartan John-117_

_Partner for Spartan John-117_

_Pillar of Autumn Shipboard AI (former)_

Okay, so she was connected to John in some way. Petra scrolled through the long history records, skimming Chief's great feats. Cortana had been with him on almost every one. Then, finally stopping her search, she read:

_During the battle with the Ur-Didact, the Master Chief recounted Cortana separating herself into multiple AI. She trashed the systems and returned to subdue the Didact, providing the Master Chief enough time to plant a grenade on him and fire the nuclear device. Cortana saved him from the blast by trapping him in a ball of hard-light and teleporting above the explosion, at the cost of her life. Here, the AI ended her service, and her partnership with Sierra 117._

Petra stopped reading. There wasn't much else to read, I suppose, but she stopped. Cortana was built to emotionally support Chief through whatever shit he'd go through. They had been parters for years, most of Cortana's short life, and an important part of Chief's. Then she sacrificed herself for him.

_Relations with Sierra-117: The Master Chief described Cortana as "almost human" and his "partner". He was very fond of her, as she closely resembled his mother figure Doctor Catherine Halsey, and supported him during the hardest times of his service. He-_

No wonder her death hit him so hard. There were a few paragraphs describing the trust and friendship between the two. An AI construct and a Spartan: two not-so-human beings, were the perfect pair for anything. Petra contemplated what she had just read for a moment, then left to see if Miko and John were holding up alright.


	6. ...Out of Mind

John woke up at 4:50, sweating.

He pushed his body up, the covers falling from his chest. Putting a hand to his head, he tried not to remember the dream.

His room was quiet. Faint light glimmered from the holo-clock. A little string of photos with him and Blue Team in each one hung near his bedside. Other than that, the room was quite barren.

He continued to massage his temples, recovering from the mindfuck he went through. After several minutes, John decided he wasn't going back to sleep and got up.

One of John's favorite ways of coping was beating the shit out of something, so he headed for the gym. Dressed in simple gym shorts and a XXL shirt, he quietly ventured down the hall. He could still hear soft breathing and groaning of the other Spartan IVs, still in their beds, just waking. It reminded him of training back on Reach.

He opened the sliding door with a gentle woosh, and found a young woman wrapping bandage tape around her hands. Her blonde hair was cut short, dyed a gentle sky blue in the back. Her stature was tense, shaky. She moved towards the bag, the many scars on her body rippling. The most noticeable was a huge burning gash on her stomach. John quietly stepped in front of the bag next to her, not wanting to interrupt her training.

She threw a few punches and the bag flew across the room, landing next to the benches. Sand poured out of it. She cursed to herself. Only a Spartan had that strength, John noted. She turned to John's chosen bag, not paying him attention. The woman threw a punch.

John caught it on instinct. He intended to simply quip at her, but she suddenly engaged in a spar. No...it was not a spar. It was full on attack mode. John did his best not to hurt her.

She was good. She tried tactics nobody else would think of. But he was bigger, older, and knew more. John managed to finally put her down-with a bitten arm, but no battle was without sacrifice.

She was bleeding from her lips, her tooth caught on her tongue's new hole occasionally as she talked. "You win! Dammit, you win!"

He got off her, and extended a hand. "Here." She cautiously took his hand and got up. "Thank you." She spit some blood out of her mouth, the red liquid staining her attire. This clearly wasn't the first time she'd accidentally fought a friend. "I'm sorry, I thought you were an enemy."

 _It's no problem,_ Chief wanted to say, but his mouth stayed shut like it usually did.

"How-How did you best me? I don't mean to brag, but I'm pretty good." Her gaze wasn't directly fixed on him. She must have been hit pretty hard to lose focus for this long.

"Well." John watched her eyes. "I'm a Spartan too."

It took her a moment to realize who she was talking to. "Master Chief! Sir." She stood upright. _Oh geez, please don't let her salute,_ John thought to himself. She saluted. "I-" She began to tone her voice down, talking more seriously. "Please forgive me, I didn't mean to."

"At ease. It's alright. It's happened before." John said, trying to ease her. She looked stiff-too stiff, ready to break. In her posture, attitude...honestly, she reminded Chief of himself long ago. Just a rambunctious kid, in a house built for warriors, terrified. Before he became...Master Chief. Heck, before he was even fully militarized.

Remembering that he gave her that hole in her tongue, he shifted forward slightly. "Let's go get you cleaned up."

"Sir?" She seemed surprised he was willing to help her.

"Come with me."

Time passed. She sewed her tongue up, barely bothered by the needle pricking, and he poured a bit of alcohol over the bite mark. It was deep, bleeding profusely. He wondered to himself how she looked if she ate.

That had been happening a lot...wondering. Without battles or missions, he's been left to think. Strange, silly thoughts, that wouldn't change anything. But he was curious. Where would this thought lead?

He wondered if she bit so hard because she liked meat. John loved it when fresh meat was shipped. He and everyone else in the Spartan-II Program would salivate over the grilled pieces of animal flesh. Fred would cut his pieces into delicate shapes, while Kelly would try and tear some part away with her bare teeth. Then Deja (the resident AI) would chide her for table manners.

" _We don't have time for manners in war._ " Linda would insist on Kelly's behalf.

Something he always remembered on Reach were the wolves. They'd tear apart their meals with humungous jaws, while at the same time pick up a cub in their mouth with the gentlest of movements. John wanted to be like a wolf. Destroy enemies with rage, save allies like a hero. He remembered holding little children with the most gentle arms and steering them away from falling buildings or explosions. He was always worried he's break their little bones with his strength, as did every Spartan in the program, but it never happened.

This might have been the longest time John ever simply thought. He...liked it. Thinking.

"Pemishun 'o shpeak fweely shir?" The young woman interrupted.

He blinked, roused from his thoughts, and nodded. "Granted."

"Sho...wha haf you bee' up to? Shir?" She was holding a cloth he had given to her mouth, blood soaking the white fabric.

People often asked him this, and he never knew how to respond. John shrugged slightly.

She asked him his name.

He told her, out of politeness, but requested he be called by his title. Only people he was close to called him John. Like Johnson, his fellow Spartan-IIs, Corta-

He pushed away the thought. He finished tying the bandage around his arm and decided to head somewhere else. The room smelled a little like blood. John didn't like it, although he was used to it. To his surprise, the woman stood up with him. He shifted his head slightly, silently asking _Why did you just copy me?_

"Where are you going? Sir?"

He thought for a second. "Shooting range."

"Is it alright if I accompany you? Sir?"

He didn't see why not. He nodded and shrugged, seeing the little glimmer in the young woman's eyes as she followed. Spitting the dissolving stitches into the cloth, she threw it into a bin and walked with him.

This time, John didn't think to himself as much.


	7. She's a Therapist

John didn't know what had happened during the shooting range incident.

He was simply firing, his aim sure like always, until...something, spoke to him.

"Chief..."

"Yes?" He looked over to answer...Petra Jordan. Yes, that was her name. But there was nothing. Just black void. Then stone began to rise and fall around him, shifting like some dream. He raised his gun, not knowing what was happening. "Sierra-117, does anyone copy?" He asked on his radio.

"Chief."

He knew that voice.

John began mindlessly walking towards the center of the cavern, past a dead body, to a source of blue light. How was this possible? Was everything just a dream? Did she teleport him somewhere after he detonated the bomb? He didn't know how to react. He couldn't react. He knelt down and reached for the light, coming from that familiar chip he always had in the back of his head.

The light stopped shining, and the room went dark.

"John." The voice echoed again, across the caverns. Chief walked slowly towards it, holding his gun out. It could be a trap. But...what if it wasn't? What if she was alive? He was ready to welcome her back, be with _her_ again.

He stopped at the edge of a deep abyss. There was a window of light from above, the cliff overlooking everything else.

"Chief." A silhouette of a slim, young woman walked out from the cliffside above him. He had to be sure.

"Cortana?" He breathed.

"The Domain is open. Meridian is next." She answered cryptically. "John! The Reclamation is about to begin!" She spread her arms wide, inviting, as white light shone across the ravine. John dropped his gun and started to run, intending to jump up to her. She was _here_. She was _alive_. His AI...no, his partner.

His Cortana.

Just as his foot hit the edge of the rock to leap, the earth beneath him crumbled, making him lose his footing. He fell into the abyss. "Cortana!" He called out. "CORTANA!"

He landed on something hard, metallic. He slowly rose up, meeting Cortana at eye level.

She smiled lovingly at him, but he didn't see her eyes. Whatever he was on top of rose up a few more miles up, and metal wings extended. He fell to one knee, and struggled to get up from the push of gravity. Finally he managed, and stepped forward to look underneath, to see what thing had been awoken.

BANG!

Chief moved back, clutching his gun. Wait...he dropped the gun. That wasn't. No. Hold on.

He left the assault rifle fall from his hands, and hit the floor of the shooting range. From the corner of his eye, Petra looked over, confused. "Master Chief?"

 _I saw her. I saw Cortana. She needs my help. She's on Meridian. We need to stop whatever that beast is. Then I can get her back. It'll be alright. She contacted me, somehow. She needs me. Cortana isn't dead after all. She's_ alive _. Cortana is alive!_ He let a slew of thoughts flow into his mind.

He looked up when Petra spoke, picked up the assault rifle, and put it back. He'd explain later. Right now he had a mission to complete.

John didn't feel right. Not in the "this plan is terrible why did i choose it" kind of way, but more like "my body isn't well help me please" kind of way. He heard Petra trying to get his attention, but didn't pay her mind. He'd apologize later. Right now, he needed to get to Meridian. Wherever that was.

"Master Chief John-117!"

He turned. He slightly shook his head, reminding her he didn't want to be called that. Then he left. He still didn't feel right. He stopped at one of the window rooms, beautiful little decks with giant windows that let you switch to different landscapes of planets. It was mostly for guests or unwinding Spartans. He went inside to think.

Something hurt, in his head.

He sat down, taking off his helmet and running a hand through his hair. He hadn't cut it since he killed the Prophet of Regret. All this loss, pain, it would go away. Soon. One-track mind, just the way he liked it. Where was Meridian? What was the "Reclamation"? It had to do with the Didact. It had to. Cortana was counting on him.

Suddenly, a red light shone from the holo-protecter in middle of the room, next to the door. He quickly got up, putting his helmet on. Petra was at the door side.

"Who are you? State your name." He said, glaring at the tiny AI in front of him. She was dressed like an Eastern shrine maiden, code running up and down her clothing. She looked 18, maybe 20.

"My name is Miko. Don't worry, I'm here to help. John, please sit down."

He narrowed his eyes at his real name, but sat. What was she doing?

She looked him over, and pointed to his helmet. "Could you take that off? I'd like to see you better."

"No thank you." John answered coldly.

Miko huffed. "Listen. I'm an AI prototype for mentally drained or damaged Spartans who are still fit for service. I was initially assigned to Petra Jordan, but she wants me to help you right now. I've seen you. You're not well. I can work better if I can see your eyes."

A...therapist? That's what she was? It reminded him of the AI given to some of the Spartan-IIs, to help them cope with them existing in the first place. He was one of them, he received-

"Cortana!" John got up. "What do you know about Meridian?"

"I won't tell you a thing until you take off that stupid helmet and talk to me!" Miko stamped her foot, revealing a sandal-like shoe under her dress.

"Then I'll find Meridian and Cortana. _Myself_." John went for the door. He didn't have time to deal with this.

"Nnnnope!" Miko clapped her hands, locking the room up. John considered the window as a backup-he had oxygen filters and mag-boots. He almost went for it, but Miko closed them shut with metal shades, just by snapping her fingers. "Now sit, and talk to me. Without the stupid helmet."

There wasn't much other choice. John sat on the couch, and took off his helmet. He put it next to him and stared at Miko with clear irritation. "I've done what you want. Now what?"

"John. Do you know what you did in the shooting range?"

"I got a message. From Cortana." He answered quickly.

"No, John, you didn't." He noticed her lower a number for something on a hologram beside her avatar. "You stood there, holding your gun but doing nothing, then doubled back and dropped your gun. You then watched it sit there for 10 seconds, then just...left. That's not normal, John." She said gently.

"It's Master Chief. And I did get a message."

"Ok. Tell me what you saw."

John explained his vision. Miko considered what he had seen for a few milliseconds, and looked at him.

"Alright, Chief. That sounds like a Mind-Messanger. It's prototype tech, mostly Forerunner, it lets people deliver visual experiences and chats to other people as far away as across the galaxy." She processed some more gigabytes of data. "You basically have a VR experience with a prerecorded message."

"Sounds about right."

"But then it means...Cortana is alive? That makes no sense. Every scrap of data I see says she's dead. But you..."

"I watched her die." John said, looking away. "I'm just as confused." He remembered what had happened. Her form fading away...

Some time passed.

"Chief?"

He looked at her with question.

Miko gave him a comforting look. "Do you want a tissue, Chief?"

"What for?" He raised an eyebrow.

"You're crying, Chief."

John touched his cheek in curiosity, and found his hand wet with...tears? Yes, tears. No, not just tears. His tears. He took a breath. "When...?"

"After you talked about watching Cortana...pass." Miko said. "Then you just started to tear up."

"I'm fine." He got up, wiping them away. Miko shook her head.

"No, Chief, you're not. I know what you're doing. You're trying to run from your emotions. You don't think you should be letting it out. But it's ok. It's okay for a soldier to cry."

"I'm a Spartan, for shit's sake. I shouldn't even be in this room right now."

"You're still human though, even if you're a Spartan."

Chief considered what she just said. Spartan and human were two words never used together in a sentence. In the same train of thought. It wasn't right. But was it wrong? No. So which one?

" _Before this is all over, promise me you'll figure out which one of us is the machine._ " She had said to him.

Before Chief could decide for himself, his body reacted. More tears fell, staining his armor and rolling around like raindrops on a windowsill. He stood there, letting his eyes fill until he couldn't see, and his entire face felt soaked.

"Breathe, Chief." Miko instructed.

He did, and slowly sat on the ground. "I..."

"I won't say a word." Miko promised. "Just...let it out."

Chief sunk his head into his hands, and did something he hadn't done since he watched _her_ die.

John-117 cried.

He felt the water drain from his focus, falling with gravity. He tasted it's salty texture as it ran down his face. He was silent. He didn't know how to cry, he didn't know if he could. But his body, his human soul, knew. Every little thing that ever tore into him, that he hid, rained free.

Have you ever heard of "kintsugi"?

It's an ancient Japanese art of filling up cracked bowls and pottery with gold, or another precious metal substance. It turns what was broken, what was breaking, into something beautiful, and keeping it alive and useful.

You could say John was breaking. He was cracked, and slowly ready to just shatter. But these tears...they filled him with liquid gold.

After an hour had passed, John opened the door, his helmet under his arm, to find Petra reached for the button to open it herself. The two stared at each other for a moment.

"About before." he began.

"I understand, it's ok." She smiled. "Sir, are you going to be alright?"

"For now, yes."

"Ok." Petra smiled and began to walk the other way, when Chief took her hand. She looked up. "Uh, sir?"

"Miko, is she ready for a mission?"

The AI appeared, and sighed to herself. "She is doing well. Isolation is never a good idea. I think...yes, she's good to go. She probably needs it."

John gave her a little smile. "Would you like to come find Meridian with me?"


	8. With You, or Against You

"With all due respect, why me, sir?" Petra asked.

 _THE MASTER MOTHERLOVING CHIEF WAS REQUESTING THAT_ SHE _COME ON A MISSION WITH_ HIM _._

"I don't think our meeting was pure chance. I think it was my...fateful luck, that lead me to you. I can't do this task alone." He glanced at Miko, who nodded. “If you don’t want to do this, I will not force you."

Miko hopped up and down. "Come on Petra, you need this, say yes!"

She broke out into a grin. "Who said I was gonna say no?" Petra stood in front of him, straight and tall. "I’m with you, sir. ‘Till the end.”

He nodded in agreement, and started to walk. "I'll go request you to my fireteam with Commander Palmer-"

"Done. Lasky wants you in his office." Miko said nonchalantly. "Now Petra, could you go pick up my chip from your room please? I kind of miss being in your head and this ship is driving me crazy."

Petra excused herself. She headed for her room, picking up the chip from her holo-pedestal. She could feel Miko fluttering about in her own neural pathways. "Miko, what is Meridian?"

"A mining planet in the Hestia Star System. It was glassed by Covenant years ago." She responded. "Chief's already in Lasky's office. Meet him there."

Petra arrived to two men arguing very calmly.

"With all due respect sir, why are we not allowed?" Chief was saying.

"Classified." Lasky answered. "Chief, if I could, I would send you and Jordan out there with a pat on the back and extra stock. But I can't. I don't know why, but I can't. I'm sorry." He straightened. "Your orders are to stay here."

"What about Jordan?" He asked.

"She is not allowed to engage on any missions until she sees Dr. Jillian again. Those are the agreements."

"If I may," Miko intervened, making Lasky jump and Chief turn ever so calmly, "I've evaluated Petra. She's better than I thought she'd be. She is recovering. Right now, she wants to help 117. I think if she gets to help out somebody she respects deeply and actually-excuse my language-do her fucking job like she's wanted, then she'll be even better. This is going to be good for her. She can fight."

"I heard she almost killed Chief this morning. In the gym."

John mouthed _That's an exaggeration_.

Miko was very flustered. "It's happened before, and not because of grief or PTSD. Honestly, if I had another year to live for every time each Spartan in this facility tried to kill somebody by accident, I'd practically be immortal."

Lasky frowned. "Miko, I trust you. I really do. But that's still a no. I have orders."

"You're the one who fucking gives them!" Petra yelled.

John looked at her. "Jordan." He said sternly.

"Sorry. You're the one who fucking gives them. Sir."

Lasky bit back a laugh. "I know that. But...listen, I cannot say anything else. Palmer is instructed by HighCom to make sure you two don't leave. Your orders are to stay here until further notice."

"Further notice my holographic ass." Miko muttered.

"If the data in the library proves correct, you let Chief go and fight the Didact and keep Cortana despite strict orders not to-"

"The world was about to end just then. We needed Chief, _and_ Cortana to keep us all from dying." Lasky countered. "This is different."

"I've had enough of this. Can you at least tell me who was dispatched to find the signal?" Even from behind his helmet, you could feel his eyes narrow in irritation.

 _Wait, the higher-ups at ONI sent somebody else to check it out instead of, I don't know, Chief?! The perfect person to send out for this thing?!_ Petra thought to herself. _Bull. Shit._

"Fireteam Osiris was sent to intercept the message, Chief."

_Those fu-_

Petra stopped herself. It wasn't their fault, they were just following orders. Still, of all teams. Why not Master Chief? Why?

"Lasky, forgive me, but screw that. Jordan and I are going."

"I figured. I won't do anything to stop you, because personally I believe the order is bull, but I can't say for everyone else." He looked down. "Don't be surprised if you're stopped."

"Understood."

"Good luck, Chief." Lasky said as the two of them headed for the door. "You too, Jordan."

Every single breathing creature had their eyes on Chief as he and Petra walked through the ship, trying to get to the hangar bay. Petra, at first, believed it was because of the orders they received. But she soon realized they were just admiring. They must not have known what was going on yet. Hopefully it would take a bit. The pair opened the doors to the bay, and Chief spotted a good-sized Pelican. _There,_ he mouthed.

" _Attention all Spartans._ " A voice spoke over the intercom. Everyone looked up. " _Do not let Sierra-117 or Chief Petty Officer Jordan leave the facility. Direct orders from Commander Palmer. Repeat, do not let Master Chief or Petra leave the facility._ "

All eyes turned to the pair.

The entire hangar bay was motionless.

"Keep walking." Chief said. Petra was about to tell him that was a stupid idea, as everyone was about to pummel them-but noticed that nobody did anything. People just watched the two of them walk calmly to the aircraft. Spartans watched with awe and confusion. A few people started to walk towards them, but were stopped by a comrade.

One Spartan, Kurtis, Petra recognized held her back by the shoulder. "Petra, I don't think you should be going."

She looked at him from behind her helmet. "Sorry Kurtis, but this is important. Palmer doesn't know what she's doing. I forgive you, by the way." She kept walking, leaving a dumbstruck Kurtis behind. Chief slammed the button to open the Pelican door. The green metal lowered slowly. Petra's eyes scanned the room, knowing this would be the perfect time for an ambush from everyone else. But they simply sat, and watched the door hit the ground softly.

Chief walked up and inside. She followed suit.

"Put me in the pedestal." Miko ordered Petra. She yanked the chip from her head and inserted it into the console, buttons lighting up and engines throttling. "I've never piloted before. Strap yourselves in." Just as the door closed, the ship slowly lifted from the cement. Outside, the swarm of people stopped below the aircraft to watch.

The hangar bay doors began to close.

Miko suddenly reacted, firing the thrusters before John and Petra could buckle themselves in. Petra flew back into a wall, hitting her neck on a bulkhead. Chief tumbled over, a seat belt entangling itself on his foot. The wings of the Pelican scraped on the 12-foot tall doors, and blasted off into space.

"Exiting vicinity!" Miko cried out.

The Infinity grew smaller and smaller behind them. Poor Chief was still tied to the seatbelt, dangling towards the end of the ship from the force of the push. Stars hung like lightbulbs around them. Then the pelican finally slowed down.

Petra had to clear her mind before she began to move. She felt so, so sick. She tore herself away from the metal, noting a Spartan-shaped dent in it, and threw off her helmet to throw up. Before she could, she noticed Chief was still floating. There was no gravity. The foul taste of acid stung her tongue, burned her throat.

"Engaging artificial gravity in 3, 2, 1." Miko announced.

Petra's helmet rolled onto the floor. Chief dropped like a brick, groaning. Petra stumbled onto the floor, opened a small door on the side of the console to find sick-bags, which she then got sick in. Yet in moments the two were upright, in helmets, untangled, and sitting in the seats ready for any more enemies. They were Spartans, after all.

"Why would ONI send another team to find Cortana?" Miko mumbled to herself.

"ONI?" Chief looked over, surprised. "It wasn't Palmer that issued the order?"

"I'm looking over data I scrounged up while in the systems, including ONI's recent orders to personnel. They somehow know about Cortana's 'revival' or whatever." She practically heard Miko smile in relief. "On the bright side, it didn't look like Palmer cared about it at all, seeing her response. She still believes in you, Chief. So does everyone else."

"So ONI knew about Cortana before we did." Petra offered. "What the hell?"

"I don't like it." Chief sat back in his seat. "Set a course for Meridian."

"Already did, Chief." Miko popped up on the console. "I'll stall Osiris, give them a fake trail. Come on Petra." She rolled her eyes. "For a Christian, you don't have a lot of faith in this."

"...That was terrible, Miko."

The AI laughed, the ship continuing to coast along the stars.


	9. Talking Isn't That Bad, Chief

Petra could go for days without sleep. She could stay up a whole week if needed. Unfortunately, she had already exhausted most of that last week with her nightmares. Her body was running low on energy. But she didn't want to sleep. What if she had more nightmares? Besides, Meridian was lightyears away. Miko intended to follow a signal from a nearby UNCS cruiser and hijack it to get to Meridian, which would take time.

So, Petra simply had the stars to watch.

Her green eyes watched the little white specks, gathered across time and space. Her mother always said that each star was an angel. Petra wanted to believe that right now, be comforted. If anything, she wanted somebody to talk to. She was well aware that John was sitting right next to her, yes, but he wasn't much of a talker. Miko was busy multitasking. Either way, Petra was a little lonely and bored.

"Hey...what are you thinking about?" Petra asked John.

He turned his head, his armor shuffling with his neck. He thought for a moment. "A lot of things, I suppose."

"Would you mind if I asked what those things were?"

"...Yes, actually."

Petra backed off. She understood. So she tried another question. "So, Cortana. She's very important to you, right?"

John answered this one without thinking. "More than anything. She's my partner."

"What was she like?"

"She certainly talked a lot, but didn't ask so many questions."

Petra rolled her eyes, knowing that was a quip at her. "Sorry, there's just not much else to do. And if we know each other better, we can work together better. It's how my team and I bonded." She tried not to think of Nathan, his body having been practically crucified. "So..."

John continued to look at her.

"Why did you really bring me along?"

The Chief cocked his head. "What do you mean?"

Petra rolled her eyes. "Sir, you blew up 2 Halos and saved the world more times than I can count-all by yourself." She tapped a finger to her knee. "You would be able to find Cortana all by yourself, I know it. So why drag me along?"

A few moments of silence passed before he answered her. "I saw something in you." He started. "I saw...what could have been me. If I became a Spartan in a different way."

She wondered what he had gone through that turned him into this stoic, ruthless giant.

"You also seemed to be searching for something. I acted. When I asked you if you wanted to come, something in your eyes changed. Like you had found something." He turned to look out the window. "Bringing you here. It's not really about me, it's about you."

Petra was at a loss for words. He was...so kind. This killing machine, he had been kind to her. It was hard to figure out how, but hey; we were all human, including the Master Chief.

"Tell me about yourself, if you're so eager to bond." He told Petra.

While she could have gone off and talked about her favorite colors and her home Luna, Petra preferred to talk about things that interested the other person, so she chose to speak about her line of work. "I enlisted to become a Spartan-IV when I was 23, got augmented at 24. I couldn't walk for 2 weeks, stupid side effects." She adjusted herself in her seat. "My team...uh...well, they were with me every step of the way. I got nick-named 'Mother Bird' because I constantly hovered over everyone.

"Got my promotion to Petty Officer Second Class when I successfully launched an attack plan that liberated almost half a continent from Covenant Control on Beta Gabriel. It was damn beautiful to see those ships burn as they flew away. Then I was sent to clear out a Forerunner facility that literally materialized out of thin air on Eridanus II. Broke both my legs and my neck saving my teammates."

She didn't notice Master Chief stiffen at the name Eridanus II.

Petra continued to gab about her experiences and journey to her current rank.

"Then my team and I...we...we were sent to...someplace to stop a 3 year old Covenant bomb from blasting half the cities away. I...It was...a difficult mission..."

She remembered grabbing the bomb, the metal burning her hands as she sprinted, unable to manually disable it. The whole army of Covenant went against her and her squad, and one by one-

"Either way I was promoted to Chief Petty Officer some time after." She finished quickly. She blinked a few tears from her eyes. "And that's my story. My little journey. How about you, Chief? How did you get to become a Master Chief Petty Officer?"

"I just did my job." He answered. "Followed orders, saved lives. I couldn't care less about rank, but I guess there has to be some reward for your actions."

"You blew up a fucking ring world. Twice. How are you not a general?"

"I did get promoted to Master Chief Petty Officer of the Navy while I was on the _Dawn_. That was enough for me."

Petra let out a small yawn, listening to the engine shut gently. "You deserve so much more, sir."

"I could say the same about you."

Petra smiled. "Thank you for the vote of confidence, sir."

"Just call me Chief."

"Ok sir."

She watched the stars fly by outside as Miko continued to search for a vessel to hijack. Soon enough, she felt her eyes gently close, the silent whir of the engine and Miko's humming putting her to a much needed sleep.


	10. Wait to Kiss

_John held the body of his comrade and teammate, Linda. Her armor was burnt away, and he thought he could see bone._

Hang in there for just a minute. _He thought._ We'll get you to cryo. You'll be fine. I repeat, you'll be fine.

_Her dilated eyes didn't believe him._

John's eyes flew open. He sat up, looking around, only to find the cockpit of a pelican and stars all around. Miko's avatar sat on her pedestal, searching for a vessel, and reading 10 books at once on what appeared to be hacking and Shaw-Fujikawa engines as a pastime. She was probably doing something else that he couldn't see.

Petra was asleep in the passenger's seat. Her chest rose softly, her fingers twitching.

"Nightmare?" Miko asked, turning around. John looked towards her. "It's nothing."

"Tell me or I turn this ship around."

"Fine. I...just dreamt of a memory. Of my teammate. Linda."

"Linda? Hang on...Linda-058? The best sniper for the entire damn Spartans as a whole? THAT Linda?"

"Yes. It was when we thought she had been killed."

"Ah...she was found in a cryo-pod and saved by Dr. Catherine Halsey, correct? Then went on a few adventures, some with you?"

"Basically."

"And then went missing sometime after you went away on the Dawn."

"...Yeah." John knew that. He was told by others. There weren't many Spartan-IIs left. In fact, along with Linda, Fred and Kelly had also gone missing. It tore him apart. Maybe, by some ounce of his luck, they'd find each other again in the vastness of space.

"Finally, a fucking vessel's gonna slipspace somewhere. Hang on, I gotta connect." Miko blipped out of sight, focused on doing her work. The pelican moved to follow a huge ship, just exiting orbit of Earth. It appeared very new, a civilian luxury ship to be exact. On it's side read " _Wait to Kiss_ ".

"Wait indeed, you're gonna be taking a little detour." Miko quipped, the vessel passing underneath the Pelican. She quickly headed for a docking bay, maneuvering inside. Some people stared at the drop ship in confusion, wondering why a military issued Pelican would be here, but went back to work. Many decommissioned Pelicans were being used as cargo ships for colony starships after all.

Petra woke up as the ship sat down. "Hey...did we hijack something yet?"

"A cruiser called 'Wait to Kiss', actually." John corrected.

"Miko? What's our status?"

"I need to get inside the ship's systems. Petra, you have active camo, right?" Miko asked, her avatar moving slightly in annoyance.

She took off her helmet and rubbed her temples. "Yeah, all stealth teams have it. You're not saying..." Her green eyes snapped open. "Lord grant me strength. We're in the fucking _docking bay_ already. And you want me to-?!"

"I had to come in as soon as I saw it, or else they'd detect us and get suspicious of me following them." Miko explained. "Now grab me and get me into the main computer!"

"Wait, is that wine?" Petra eyed a cart of wine being carried through the bay. "Is this a luxury ship?!"

"Yes." John nodded.

"...Shit. Miko you owe me big time." She put on her helmet and yanked Miko from the ship's systems. "I'll be back." She opened up the door.

"Miko, are you sure you want Petra to go?" John asked one final time.

" _I'm sure. Stealth is her expertise!_ " Miko answered. " _Now hide, and make sure nobody thinks-_ "

The back door opened, with several crewman pushing dollies and staring up into the craft. Petra winked out of sight, and Chief closed the door with incredible speed. He held his breath, hiding just below the handle. Miko was smart enough to turn on shading for the windows in case somebody looked in.

Just in case, Chief slid down onto the floor, out of sight. It was a good thing he had a lot of patience.

Petra's expertise lied in stealth missions, recon, and in general staying out of the fight as long as she could. She ducked under huge crates and stepped over railings with her muffled boots, not a single person aware of her presence. This was a long and delicate process, but also had to turn quick in times of need. Great news-she was good at that.

Petra hit the floor and let a huge robotic cart of fine foods packed in boxes roll over her. She grabbed the bottom handles and held on, turning off her shields as her armor came barely into contact with the metal floor. She let the cart take her to wherever the storage room was.

Soon metal turned into red carpet, and she heard thousands of people chatting. She caught a few words, and ignored them. She hated the snark of the rich. soon enough, her destination was reached, the cart pushing through doors to a titanic freezer. Some fellows unloaded the wine boxes, placing them delicately on shelves. Rows upon rows of red and white liquids stuffed into crates lined the walls.

When the cart was empty, before she could be wheeled away, Petra let go of the bottom. Her hands had left dents, and when she fell, her armor made a small clang.

She stopped breathing. The workers looked around. "What was that? I heard something, I know it." One lady yelled out to her fellow workers.

"It was like...metal. Think it was the cart?"

"Doubtful. Ol' Red is quiet as a bug. Somebody else is here." The oldest of the workers, a man of around 50 years, looked around with nostalgic dread. "Damn, it better not be Henry pranking us again."

It wasn't the first time Petra had been so careless to reveal her presence. It also wasn't on purpose, but she had no choice. She slowly stood up, and walked past the workers. In the cold air, she was like a snail. The slightest movement, going just a little too fast, would move air into their direction, and she'd be caught. Petra's face was completely neutral and calm, and she moved to dodge hands and legs before the workers could even think about moving themselves.

She slowly backed away, the workers now calling out for her, stood by the door and waited. Ol' Red wheeled her way and slipped outside, ready to head back to it's primary location. She went out with it. Petra got a good view of the other cellars and freezers, housing enough food to feed a planet. She walked through the endless hallway, almost wishing she could ride on Ol' Red again.

20 minutes later she maneuvered through the soccer-field-sized kitchen and entered the main dining hall. She finally exhaled, slowly and surely, low enough nobody but Miko would ever hear. The beautiful smell of food hit her nostrils. Pastas, chicken, tuna...her mouth began to drool. Waiters ran by carrying plates upon plates of delicious-

 _No Petra,_ She told herself. _Focus on the task at hand. Food can wait._

She said a little prayer and started to make her way, hugging the wall. The tips of her armor almost touched the fine wood.

"There." Miko whispered at a tone only she could hear. "I see a port, by the main entrance."

Petra continued to squeeze along the wall and slip past people until she got to the entrance. It was a pair of huge, mahogany doors, led up to by a staircase. Petra didn't climb it, and instead shuffled underneath one of it's sides. She reached behind her head, pulling Miko out, and plugged her into the port. The feeling of cold mercury left her skull.

"Give me a few seconds." Miko said once she was in.

Miko was a pretty new AI, so she had a lot of storage. During her time searching for Petra at the facility, she had copied and collected at least half the library's data (most of which was on Spartans and any mental health data she didn't already know). Before Petra came to pick her up for the mission, she had copied some more data on hacking and piloting. At least a year's worth floated around in her codes, anything and everything she could possibly need for this mission. That included programming and hack routes, slipspace transition how-tos, Shaw-Fujikawa engine history, and then some which she had reread and practiced at least 12,000 times during the flight.

5 seconds passed. "Done. Get back to the ship." Petra pulled her out and snuck away, ignoring the food. She found the pelican surrounded by confused workers.

"It's completely empty. Is this somebody's idea of a joke?" A cargo-man said, ripped his hat up and staring at the craft.

"Well, we called, so we should be getting some answers real soon." Another replied.

"It's just a pelican, probably rigged. No big deal. It'll get hauled out and we'll be on our way!"

 _Sure._ Petra thought to herself. She climbed aboard, the door still open. She sat in one of the seats meant for the troopers, her body hugged tightly on either side. She waited patiently, watching as people came in with flashlights and poked around. She held her breath, careful not to move.

" _Attention all passengers, we are currently 5 minutes away from making a transition into Slipspace. Please make sure you complete any remaining tasks quickly, so that the ensuing departure from our reality may not disturb your activities._ " A voice echoed throughout the ship's metal passages, and the workers began to gather around the pelican. One ran up a flight of stairs to stand above them, on the highest railing of the room.

"All of you, stop mooching with the Pelican! We have work to do!"

"But sir, the door is locked-"

"Are ya deaf?!" The first guy yelled back.

"Somebody could be hiding in there!"

"We'll take care of that hitchhiker after the slipspace jump! Now come on and do your jobs! We have luxurious crap that needs to get to places, and needs to get to them now!"

There was a collective "yes sir" and the men exited the pelican, closing the back door. Petra finally let out her breath, and quietly scrambled to the cockpit's main door. Petra knocked on the metal in morse code, O-P-E-N. Chief was there to meet her.

Petra gave him a nod, plugged Miko in, and sat down, still tense from her little mission. "They're onto us."

"I heard-get down." Chief pushed her down to the floor by the shoulder just as a worker came by, smushing his face to the window of the aircraft. He turned to listen to a loud voice, and walked away, slightly dejected.

5 minutes passed.

" _We are now making our scheduled slipspace transition. Please keep your items with you at all times, and enjoy the ride._ "

While the entire ship may have enjoyed it, it was sure uncomfortable where Chief and Petra laid, hunched over the metal flooring.

Meanwhile, the shipboard AI, Valentine, watched the coordinate grid, making sure it looked like they were making a transition to Pearl instead of Meridian. He watched the screen shift a bit to the actual trajectory, and typed in a code in less than a microsecond. The screen went back to the fake.

"Valentine? Is everything alright?" The captain turned to his AI crew member.

"Nothing sir, just hoping our first transition goes well." Valentine smiled.

"I hope so too." The captain walked away. Valentine looked back at the fake data prints and frowned. How the heck did that little therapist AI talk him into keeping her hijack a secret? Was it her cute demeanor? Her choice of words? Her age being so new?

More so, was she and her friends going to be ok?

He continued to monitor the data, and keep an eye on every worker, making sure only he knew where they were really heading. One thing he knew for sure, that Miko AI owed him big time.


	11. Meridian

And _not_ to Miko's surprise, everyone except our two Spartans looked in shock when they appeared a number of kilometers away from the planet Meridian.

"Valentine, status!"

"The slipspace engine is working just fine. Just a glitch in the programming sir, a miscalculation. A number-yes, just a mistyped number or two. I'll make us a course for Pearl, and double-check it this time." The AI replied. "Wait-no, it wasn't a mistype, it's a scrambling virus. Wiping it. All done." He turned and smiled. "I wouldn't be too worried. This is a new ship, anybody could have snuck it in. Some prankster, or something."

The captain wished this wasn't his fifth time making a miscalculated jump. "Remind me to check out the ship once this cruise is over."

"Aye aye, sir."

Meanwhile, the pelican's thrusters flickered to life. Men and woman started yelling and running away as the craft turned around and headed for the cargo bay door.

"Open it, or it'll crash!" Somebody yelled, and hit an enormous button on a control console.

The huge green doors slid themselves open, revealing the deep of space. The craft exited the cargo bay, and proceeded to go at full speed to anyplace other than the _Wait to Kiss_. People could only stand and watch, dumbfounded.

"So, about those hitchhikers?"

"...To be honest, I could care less at this point. Whatever's out here will bang 'em up more than we ever could. Let's get back to work people!" The superior clapped his hands. "One little detour isn't gonna shake us!"

And the _Wait to Kiss_ prepared to return to it's original destination.

The burnt world of Meridian floated in front of the pelican, making it's way to the space elevator.

"What is Meridian's deal, anyway?" Petra stared at the rocky, gray surface of what was probably once a lush planet.

"It was glassed by the Covenant in 2551." Miko responded. "Now it's run entirely by a private company, chipping away at the glass. UNSC has no control. It's best we take the space elevator down, they don't like unexpected visitors, particularly UNSC, just landing on their soil." She changed the course a few millimeters, the giant towering elevator just some hundred miles away.

"What could Cortana be doing on Meridian?" Chief muttered to himself.

"I don't know...well, what were her interests?" Petra asked.

"Whatever mine were at the time. Staying alive. She wasn't one for hobbies or exploring." Chief replied. He sat uncomfortably in his seat, tense. His fingers clenched the seat's armrests, leaving minuscule dents.

"Hey, relax. We'll find answers, and we'll find Cortana." Petra said, trying to reassure her superior. He looked over, and sighed, nodding.

"We're here. Petra, yank me." She did as the AI told her, the cold mercury seeping into her skull, and stepped off the ship. It had landed in a docking bay, which had little to no personnel. A large sign pointed towards a set of sliding doors, indicating the elevator taking them down. The two Spartans walked through the barren room, entering the spacious elevator. John pressed a button, and the elevator began to descend.

"Not much security." Petra wondered. The humming of the machinery relaxed her worries. Maybe there was more security needed on the surface. Still, Petra tapped a finger to her magnum just in case.

The Master Chief had not relaxed. He was completely still. What was happening? He was so close to answers, his heart raced a bit.

Suddenly, outside, explosions sounded. A single ship of unique alien design fell to the surface, catching fire and crashing into another. One piece barely missed the elevator. Now this got the Spartans' attention, and they pulled out their guns. Something was wrong.

"Who the hell is on my elevator?" Said a voice on the loudspeaker.

"Master Chief Petty Officer of the Navy, Spartan John-117, UNSC, and Chief Petty Officer Spartan Petra Jordan accompanying. We mean no harm." Chief quickly responded.

"What are you doing here? What do you want with my planet?"

"Don't worry, it's not any business concerning UNSC." Petra assured the voice. "We're here looking for somebody, that's all. Then we'll leave."

The voice was silent. "Is it somebody named Cortana?"

John stiffened. "Yes. How do you know?" His finger brushed the trigger of his gun.

"Because she told me about you, Spartan-117. She didn't say anything about a Petra, but if she's with you, I guess she's with you." The voice chuckled. "My name is Governor Sloan. I can lead you to Cortana. Just go where I say, and do not lay a finger on my people."

"Understood." The Chief said.

"Now put away your fancy weapons, you'll scare the security."

The two reluctantly holstered their guns.

Doors opened, and personnel greeted them. They led them through a series of huge hallways, and a small trail, eventually leaving them to explore the tiny town that awaited. More security were waiting for them there, their eyes on the two soldiers, but didn't do anything more than just stare.

"Let me take care of a few things first. Please, our town is yours to enjoy." Sloan said one last time on the com, and left. A huge glowing, circular structure beat in the heart of the little town. Some were gathered, others walking away.

Petra was still on high alert, but took the time to take a look around. There were stores selling odd-looking food, children drawing in the burnt dirt, people lugging machinery and chattering. One child ran up to John. "You're HUGE! Are you a robot?!" He asked, jumping up and down.

John stared at the boy for a second. "No. I'm just a soldier."

"You're the biggest person I've seen! I'm gonna tell all my friends!" He ran, leaving dusty tracks in the dirt.

Petra gave the Chief a smirk. "You're popular."

"To be honest, I'm not good with children."

"Well, get used to big smiles, loud voices, and little hands reaching up for you. Come on, maybe Cortana left us a trace around here." Petra walked in the direction of the strange, circular structure. "Maybe this has something to do with it."

A figure glittered to life on there. He resembled an Oscar of sorts, but parts of him were missing and strange shapes floated beside him in the air. "That's an AI...he's going rampant from the looks of it." Miko said, her voice slightly chilled. "I heard cases of some trading parts of their avatar for more logic cycles."

"I can hear you." The AI said, staring down. He had the same voice as-

"Governor Sloan? You're an AI?" Petra asked, petrified. John stared him up and down, not sure what to think.

"I was tasked with keeping this planet running. Yes, I'm an AI, but the people are thriving, no? I'll keep my end of the bargain. Follow these coordinates. Once you reach the destination, you'll get closer."

"Closer? To what?" John asked.

"Your friend, of course. She was here, but she had to leave. Don't worry, she's only a portal away." He flickered out of sight. John gripped his gun's hilt. "That's...great." His voice dripped with sarcasm.

"At least she's still close. Let's go." Petra ran for the nearest landing pad, their goal just some ways away. The pair maneuvered the cargo pelican to a nearby location called Apogee, across a huge chasm of burning glass.

It was silent for the ride.


End file.
